Page 59 of Feral Omega

No matter what brief glimpses of control they allow me to see.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

PLAGUE

Iinhale deeply, the sterile scent of the infirmary mingling with the tang of disinfectants and medical supplies. My leather gloves creak as I flex my fingers, mentally preparing for the mission ahead. The compound echoes with muted activity, the dull thrum of readiness coursing through its veins like a heartbeat.

A soft rap at the door shatters the silence. I turn, nostrils flaring at the familiar aroma wafting in—honeysuckle and vanilla, laced with the earthy musk of an omega's natural scent.

Ivy.

"Come in," I call out, keeping my tone even as she slips through the door.

She moves with a catlike grace, eyes sharp and wary as they sweep over the infirmary before settling on me. Even in the harsh fluorescent lighting, her beauty is striking—high cheekbones, full lips, that wild tumble of auburn hair framing her delicate features.

"Thane said you wanted to see me," she says, her voice a low, smoky rasp that sends a shiver down my spine. Low and raspy from disuse, no doubt.

I'm actually a bit surprised to hear her speaking. Perhaps the nesting materials have soothed her after all.

I incline my head, holding her piercing gaze even though she can't see my eyes behind my lenses. "Yes. There's a matter we need to discuss before the mission."

Her eyes narrow infinitesimally, that defiant tilt to her chin sharpening as her shoulders tense. I can practically taste the wariness rolling off her in waves, that ever-present aura of mistrust that never seems to fade.

Reaching into the cabinet behind me, I retrieve a small vial filled with a viscous amber liquid. Ivy's gaze snaps to it immediately, her nostrils flaring as she scents the air.

"What is that?" she demands, the words edged with suspicion. Her small body is tight and coiled, like a caged animal ready to flee at even the slightest provocation.

I hold up the vial, letting the fluorescent lights play over the glass. "A scent suppressant. For you."

She blinks, taken aback for a split second before the shutters slam down over her expression once more. "Why would I need that?"

Crossing to the exam table, I set the vial down with a soft clink. "Your scent, while intoxicating, could prove to be a liability out in the field. It's a beacon to every alpha within range, friend and foe alike. This will mask it, make you virtually undetectable to even the keenest senses."

Understanding flickers in her fathomless gaze, chased by a glimmer of vulnerability she quickly smothers. "You mean so I don't 'distract' the rest of you?"

A ghost of a smile tugs at my lips despite my best efforts. Always so prickly, this one. Always ready to take offense, to see insult where there is none.

"Partly," I admit, holding her gaze steadily. "But more importantly, it will allow you to hide more effectively should you become separated from the group. Omegas have a... distinctive aroma that gives them away even from a distance. This will help shield you from any unfriendly forces we might encounter."

Ivy worries her full lower lip between her teeth, considering my words. I can practically see the wheels turning behind her eyes as she weighs the merits of my offer against her deeply ingrained mistrust.

At last, she gives a curt nod. "Fine. How do I take it?"

Moving to the counter, I retrieve a sterile syringe and a packet of gauze, laying them out beside the vial with practiced efficiency. "An injection is the most effective method of delivery," I explain, turning back to face her. "If you'll allow me?"

For a heartbeat, she hesitates, that wary look flickering across her delicate features once more. Then, with a slight shrug, she slips out of her jacket, baring the creamy expanse of her slender arms.

I blink, caught off guard by her easy compliance. Not that I'm complaining—there's something mesmerizing about the play of slight muscle shifting beneath her soft skin as she moves.

Giving myself a mental shake, I tear my gaze away and focus on preparing the syringe, drawing the amber liquid smoothly into the chamber. As I work, a stray thought nags at the back of my mind—just how many injections, how many experiments and invasive procedures, has this fierce creature been subjected to in the name of "taming" her?

The thought leaves a sour taste in my mouth, an unexpected flare of protectiveness surging through me. I tamp it down ruthlessly, clearing my throat as I turn back to face her.

"This might sting a bit," I murmur, my voice low.

Ivy simply nods, extending her arm with that same reckless bravado she seems to wear like armor. I grasp her wrist gently, the pads of my fingers pressing into the soft hollow where her pulse flutters wildly against my touch.

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